Lost and Found (ONC2024)

Chapter 1

2024

My life changed forever the day Jude Prak walked into my office. In my endeavors to become a licensed clinical worker—my second career — I secured an internship in a community health center, providing either free or low-cost in-person counseling. Of course, I didn't get paid a dime. For an intern, I had a large caseload, seeing fifteen to twenty clients per week in the three days I was there. The other two days I spent in class while continuing to work part-time as an elder law attorney, my first career I couldn't wait to leave.

Five years into practicing law, I discovered it wasn't the right fit for me. My conservative father — also a lawyer — didn't speak to me for a month after I told him I wanted to give up law to become a clinical social worker. He'd hoped I'd become a partner in his law firm some day. The idea of spending the rest of my life in a boring career made me want to throw myself off a bridge. In just a few months I'll have my Masters degree in Social Work.

I didn't blame my father for his disappointment since I'd made dozens of bad choices in my life.

Jude Prak... hmm... where to begin...

As I opened the door to the crowded waiting room, I observed young children running around as their parents remained oblivious or indifferent. Slouched in his seat and wearing a pair of Bose headphones, a moody teenager sat beside her mother, her arms tightly folded across her chest, looking as though she wanted to be anywhere but here. 

I'd never met a person named Jude before. I'd only heard the name from the Beatles' song, Hey Jude, and the commercials of sick children at St. Jude's Hospital. The first name, Jude, was even more unusual given his surname was Prak, a common Cambodian last name in the area. I looked forward to hearing his story. Everybody had a story to tell. Some clients were keener to tell it than others.

In the sea of people, I suspected I spotted twenty-four year old Jude. He was the only young man sitting alone, his skin lighter than I expected from a person of Cambodian descent. "Jude?" I called.

The young man with dark hair and eyes jumped to his feet, tossing the magazine on the nearby end table. Despite his disheveled appearance, he was handsome, and his two different colored sneakers both amused and worried me. His messy hair made me think he'd just crawled out of bed and threw on the only clothes he could find. His faded blue jeans were two sizes too big for him.

Standing directly in front of me, he paused at the door, his piercing gaze locked with mine. He seemed strangely familiar, as if we'd crossed paths before, but I couldn't quite place where or when. Our initial encounter was awkward. I masked my uneasy, conflicted emotions, in exchange for empathy and compassion, hoping to instill a sense of safety and security. 

"We've met before," Jude stated.

"I don't think so," I said, turning to lead him down the hall to my office. "Maybe we saw each other in a grocery store or something."

"You're Percy, right?" he said.

I assumed he noticed my name on the door. "Yes," I answered, opening my office door. "Percy Richler. It's nice to meet you."

He followed me into my closet of an office. As an intern, I had a limited selection of office.

"Your real name isn't Percy, though, is it?"

How did he know that? I had the most unusual first name, named after my grandfather. Most people assumed I was Italian because my name sounded Italian, but it's really a German name. Obsessed with Percy Jackson, family and friends started calling me Percy at a young age. My birth certificate and driver's license said something else. I didn't acknowledge his comment. "Is your real name Jude?"